The Paths We Walk
by Nyllewell
Summary: Sequel to The Paths That Cross. Evaneth Williams is now 13 and in his 3rd year at Hogwarts. Jareth, King of the Underground is faced with a difficult decision, and all the while, a new threat is coming closer that knows the truth of Voldemort's destruction, and wants revenge. Will help if you read, TPTC, but not completely necessary .
1. Chapter 1

**I don't know why I have been writing so much lately! **  
**Well, here it is, the sequel to The Paths That Cross.  
**

**I do not own Labyrinth or Harry Potter. I do own Evaneth though, and Annabelle and assorted others along the way.  
**

**So here we go:  
**

**The Paths We Walk  
**

**Chapter 1: The Train Station**

* * *

The noise was a shock every year. People shouted and rushed to and fro, trains whizzed by, the tracks and breaks rumbling and creaking all to form a cacophony that was louder and more disjointed then anything the goblins could come up with. Evaneth Williams ought to know, he was the Goblin Prince. The day was September 1; the first day of term for his third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, for one of life's greatest ironies was that Evan had been graced with both Underground magic (from his father), _and _Above magic (presumably from his mother's side, though she herself had no Above magic). That was why Evan, his little sister Annabelle, and his mother Sarah were making their way through King's Cross Station to Platform 9 3/4.

Annabelle was hanging onto his right arm, chattering away while his mother walked a few feet behind them. "And you're going to play Quidditch again?"

"Yes, Annabelle."

"But you'll keep up your grades, right?"

"Yes, Annabelle."

"And you'll write me, won't you?"

"Yes, Annabelle."

The same routine replayed itself every year. He loved his little sister, he really did, but she was clingier than his parents. An image of his father flitted into his mind, royal, elegant and aloof. Ok, clingier than his mother, he amended. No one in their right mind would accuse their father of being clingy. In fact, Evan was not sure if his father would be able to see him off today. Four days ago he had quite un-expectantly been called back to the Underground and had not returned to their Aboveground home, but his father was a king; a true king, not the pseudo-monarchy like Britain, and if the kingdom needed him then he needed to be there. Still, Evan would have liked him to be _here_.

A hand touched his shoulder, and Evan glanced back at his mother's green eyes. In all his thirteen years, Sarah Williams had not changed, except for when he had been pregnant with Annabelle. Forever she would be the same, gifted with eternal life by her marriage to his father. She gave him a small smile and a squeeze. "He'll be here, Evan."

Evan returned her words with a crooked smile and paused in his walking. They had made it to the Platform; now all that was left was the waiting. The Williams family was a little early, so they huddled together talking idly while the people in the station walked around them. Maybe five minutes passed when a familiar tingle of magic reached Evan's senses. He looked up, searching the station, a large smile broadening as his father, Jareth the Goblin King, made his way through the crowd.

Jareth strolled through the station, dressed in a black suit so exquisitely made that it would put the British monarchy to shame; a floor length coat billowed behind him, black leather gloves and boots covered his hands and feet. A gold medallion rested on his chest, the only adornment that was not black. Though his hair was wild and sun-kissed blond, he made an attempt to control it while Above, so that it merely fell in wispy layers around his face. He even dampened his magic as he strolled past the humans about him. Not that it mattered. Instinctively they moved out of his way. Some of the more sensitive humans would gape, and children would watch him with utter fascination, but the more common reaction was to get out of his way as quickly as possible. There was something about him, even in modern clothes and in an Above setting, that set people on edge.

Jareth approached his family and ushered them through the Platform, desperate to put some distance between himself and the ruckus around him. The other side of the Platform was quieter, but not quiet. Students were hollering and yelling and laughing as they boarded the train. Families said their goodbyes, carts and trollies rolled by. The Hogwarts Express was at the landing, its steam engine hissing and billowing. Jareth took a deep breath and met the gaze of his wife, his love, his general reason for being. "You are a sight for sore eyes, Precious."

Sarah smiled. Every now and again, a common expression from the Above would pass through Jareth's lips, and no matter how trivial, it always made her smile. "Long week?"

A shadow crossed Jareth's face. Sarah had no idea, but now was not the time. His children waited patiently for his attention, for they would never dare interrupt him while speaking to their mother. _No one _dared to interrupt him when he spoke to Sarah. Jareth glanced down at his eight year old daughter Annabelle. Her long black hair was braided to her side and she wore a pretty floral dress. Though her eyes were downcast out of respect, Jareth knew she had his mismatched eyes of blue and brown. "Hello, Annabelle. I trust you've been good for your mother?"

Annabelle straightened and met his gaze, "Yes, Father."

Jareth smiled at her and was rewarded with her own brilliant grin. Then he turned to his eldest child, his first born son and heir. Evaneth had grown much this past year; a few inches only separated their height. A blind man could see they were related, for Evaneth greatly resembled Jareth. They had the same build, the same face shape, the same hair, even the same tilt in the eyes. However, as Jareth gazed at his son he could see tell-tale differences. Evaneth was…softer somehow, with less sharp angles. There was a kindness in the boy's blue and green eyes (a lovely mixture from he and Sarah, he did not mind noting) that would never appear in Jareth's colder eyes. Evan squirmed slightly under Jareth's scrutiny. "And you, Evaneth," Jareth asked softly. "Are you prepared for the school year?"

"Yes, Father." Evan tried to meet his father's piercing stare. "I'll try to make you proud."

Sarah saw Jareth press his lips together as his eyes flickered at his son's words. She bent down to Annabelle, catching her daughter's hand in her own. "Come on, Anna Bee. Let's see if we can find a treat cart somewhere."

Jareth watched as Sarah moved away before returning his full attention to his son. Evan stood straight and tall, not lowering his eyes and Jareth inhaled a deep breath. Being a father was not particularly easy for him. _Love_ as an emotion was foreign, considered a weakness by most of the Underground. His first experience with love had been with Sarah, and he had had to be taught what love meant and how to love. No, it did not come easy for him. Evan was still standing silently, waiting for him to speak. There was such hope and longing in those mismatched eyes, and Jareth imagined what Sarah would say, finding proper words. "Evan, you are my son, my first born." A sudden bit of inspiration hit and Jareth removed his medallion, slipping it over Evan's head as he continued, "You always make me proud."

Evan grasped the medallion in awe, gaping both at the gift and his father's words. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words refused to be spoken. Just as he was about say thank you, a large boy barreled into him, knocking him sideways several feet before he managed to catch his balance.

"Oi! Come on, Evan! We have to hurry or we'll end up sitting with the first years." Evan's year mate and best friend, Cory Harris shouted excitedly, rearranging his glasses. "This is going to be the best year ever! I can't wait to terrorize the lower classes." A careful cough caught Cory's attention and he slowly turned around. There, not two feet away was Evan's father, dressed all in black looking irritated and impatient. Cory instantly stood up straight, the jovial expression replaced by a solemn one. "Sorry, Mr. Williams, Sir. I didn't see you through the pillar."

"Mmm," Jareth said noncommittally. The boy paled a bit, but Evan came to stand next to him.

"You remember Cory Harris, right, Father?" Evan suggested with the ease that would make him a great ruler one day. Before Jareth could respond, Sarah and Annabelle returned, each holding sweets.

"Cory!" Sarah said with a laugh. "How was your summer?" She came beside Jareth, placing a single arm around him. Jareth relaxed a smidgeon and returned the gesture.

"Hi, Mrs. Williams. It was great actually." The Hogwarts Express whistled shrilly and there was a sudden rush toward the train. The noise level rose and now the goodbyes were in earnest. "I've got to go! I'll save you a seat, Evan. Mr. Williams," Cory said with a small bow that was returned with a tilt of the head, "Bye Mrs. Williams!" Cory waved as he lumbered through the crowd.

"Good bye, Cory." Sarah waved back smiling as she stepped away from Jareth. "Evan, you better hurry." She pulled her son into a quick embrace, which was followed by Annabelle.

Evan met his father's eyes and smiled. "Goodbye Father, Mother. And Anna Bee, I'll write as soon as I'm settled." With that, he turned and raced to the train, Annabelle quick on his heels, laughing and waving.

Sarah followed her children with her eyes, leaning back against the solid form of her husband. "Was that your medallion?" She felt Jareth's reply rumble through his chest as he hummed the affirmative. "That was kind of you, Jareth."

Jareth remained silent. Kindness was another one of those emotions that he struggled with, and one that was deemed just as weak, and one that humans seemed to thrive on, just as much as love. But, Jareth had fallen in love with a human, and his children were of both bloods. It was difficult for him to express kindness and love, but he tried. He would always try, as long as Sarah was there to guide him. He rested his cheek against her head, surprising himself with such a public display of affection. By the widening of Annabelle's eyes as she returned to them, his actions surprised her as well. "Let's go home, Sarah. You too, little Peach," Jareth extended a hand toward his daughter, and once in contact, transported them all away from King's Cross Station.

* * *

**So, let me know what you think. Should I even finish it? **

**And forgive me if any Harry Potter stuff is not right; I usually just dip my toe into that world.**

**~Nylle**


	2. Chapter 2

**Happy Halloween! **

**Here is another chapter.  
**

**The Paths We Walk  
**

**Chapter 2**

Evan groaned as he flopped down on his bed, glad that the sorting and the feast were over. He had a full stomach and now exhaustion was following close behind. Cory was rummaging through his chests, unpacking his belongings. Evan's own clothes and belongings had been put into their proper places by Fren, a house elf that was more like a friend then a real servant. Students were not technically allowed to have their own house elves at Hogwarts, but since Fren stayed with Evan voluntarily, there wasn't really anything anyone could do. So, Fren stayed out of the way generally and only came when called.

Evan peaked through heavy lids as Cory pinned up some posters. His friend was large, like a bear, with big round cheeks, gigantic hands, and a short stout build. His hair was dark black and cut so low as to make his head seem too large for his body. But he had sharp blue eyes, and a wit to match. And no one would ever dare to mess with him, for despite his large frame Cory was one of the fastest sprinters at Hogwarts, a good rugby player (for Cory's parents were non-magical), and one of the most ruthless Quidditch players on the Slytherin team.

Only he and Cory shared this dorm room. Slytherin numbers had dwindled in the past years, but that is where Evan had been placed three years ago, and that is where he would stay. Besides, there was something comforting about the dungeons and being surrounded by stone. Maybe it reminded him of the Underground. And, Evan thought smugly, green went with his eyes.

Cory yawned and stretched, a picture on Evan's nightstand catching his attention. Unlike most Wizarding pictures, this one did not move. Within the gold frame was the Williams family. His mother and father stood behind him and Annabelle, while they sat. All of them wore red and gold outfits that glittered. They were all smiling, save for his father. Though, if one knew what to look for, they would recognize how pleased he was in the picture, one hand around his mother's waist, the other on Evan's shoulder. That had been a good day.

Cory focused on Evan's father. Even through a picture the man was intimidating, and Cory shook his head with a shudder. "Mate, don't take this the wrong way, but your father is bloody terrifying."

"You have no idea," Evan answered with a laugh. "Ugh, we have a long day tomorrow Cory, and I am going to sleep."

"You're such an old man," and yet Cory also climbed into bed, closing the curtains with a swish. "Night, Evan."

"Night, Cory."

Then light faded and within moments both boys were sound asleep.

* * *

Sarah was very glad to be back in their condo. As much as she loved being Underground, sometimes taking a break from the goblins and from neighboring nobles and monarchs was a necessity, one that she could indulge in even if Jareth could not. After all, _he_ was the Goblin King. Every summer they returned to the Labyrinth, but both Annabelle and Evan were schooled Above, much to Jareth's chagrin. For three years this condo had been their home. Jareth had decided that if they were to live Above, then they would _live_ Above. They were in one of the highest, newest condominiums in London, complete with a balcony.

The condo was quiet now, the lights dim. Annabelle had finally succumbed to sleep, giving Sarah the perfect opportunity to search out her wayward husband. Though, in all honesty, she knew where he would be, and her feet led the way. Jareth's favorite place was without a doubt the balcony. Though small, two chairs and a small table fit comfortably. Not that Jareth _used_ the chairs. Sarah slid the glass door to the side and slipped outside, shivering a bit as a brisk breeze cooled her arms. Sure enough, Jareth was there. He was resting on the metal railing, one foot hooked around a bar, the other dangling to the side. In one hand he held a brandy snifter; in the other was a parchment that he was reading over, looking completely at ease balancing precariously above the city. Sarah appreciated his profile, smiling at a memory from three years ago.

It had been their first night back in the Above, and Jareth had been restless. The world of mortals made him uneasy. Sarah knew he did not like being in the buildings and generally distrusted the Wizarding world (though regular humans he tolerated quite well). In an attempt to gather his thoughts, he had stepped up on the railing, glimpsing at the city lights below and enjoying the solitude. When a woman's frantic screams sliced through the night like a blade, Sarah had rushed outside, only to see a startled Jareth reclaim his balance and lightly jump down to the balcony. One of the neighbors had seen him and had been terrified that he was about to jump. "She might have well pushed me," Jareth had said angrily, his eyes sparking fire with murderous intent. It had taken a lot of sweet talking and apologizing by Sarah to set things right and even now Jareth refused to speak to their neighbor. His one concession, however; was that he no longer stood on the balcony railing, though Sarah wasn't sure if his current position was much better.

A little goblin appeared with a poof, bowed down to Sarah with a quick "Highness," and made a bee line to Jareth. "Your Majesty?"

"Yes, Spittle?" Jareth did not move his gaze from his parchment.

"Erm, Sporrel, Sire." The goblin tried to hand his monarch a rolled up parchment, but with a sigh Jareth motioned for the goblin to set it on the table, where Sarah could see several similar parchments. Parchment delivered, the goblin bowed once more and vanished.

Sarah frowned, coming closer to Jareth. "So much work. Is there trouble?"

He gave her a sideways glance, "I would not call it trouble, yet."

"No?"

"No."

"Good," Sarah snatched the parchment from Jareth's grasp, ignoring the annoyance that crossed his face. "I have not seen you for four days, husband mine. Be damned if you're going to spend the night doing paperwork!"

A mischievous smile pulled at his lips, the annoyance gone instantly. He swung his legs over the railing, pulling Sarah closer to him. "And how would you suggest I spend my time, hmm?"

The tone of his voice, deep and low, sent shivers down Sarah's body that had nothing to do with the chilly, September air. "I'm sure we could think of something," and taking one of his gloved hands, Sarah led him back inside, and down the hall to their bedroom. For the rest of the night, they did not speak so much with words, but with passion.

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**Short I know, but necessarily so. Enjoy and see you later.  
**

**~Nylle  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own either Harry Potter or Labyrinth. **

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Classes at Hogwarts had never been easy, but this year Evan's schedule was a nightmare. Wake up, eat, then run to History of Magic (which, while interesting in theory bored students to sleep when taught by a ghost), then Charms, Potions, a quick lunch followed by Herbology, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts (which was taught by Mavic Mavoria), Astronomy (thankfully only three days a week), Care of Magical Creatures, and then for fun Evan had signed up for Muggle Music as an extra-curricular activity.

Before he knew it, Evan's first week at Hogwarts had passed him by. History of Magic, even after two years, was still dry and boring. Evan had a hard time caring about the past doings of ancient wizards and witches. It was bad enough that he had to learn and memorize the Underground's past, but to add the Wizarding World's history to that was nearly unbearable. Charms, however, was an easier class, for him at least. Cory struggled with the concept of using runes and spells to achieve magic, since as a part of a muggle family, he had never believed in the concept until he had been accepted to Hogwarts. While Evan had not had any experience with using charms until he started Hogwarts, he was at least familiar with the ideas of magic. Besides, the class was taught by Professor Flitwick, a small man that Evan swore had goblin blood in him somewhere. The professor had taken an instant liking to Evan, so earning points for Slytherin House was especially easy during Charms.

Potions, however, was a different matter. Years ago, or so Evan was told, Potions was the only class where Slytherins could shine. The Potions Professor, a man by the name of Snape, had been very biased toward the House. But Snape was gone; a victim of the last Wizarding War, and the new professor was not as kind to the Slytherins. Professor Gibbs was a small squirrely man that constantly had watery eyes and a thin weak voice that grated on Evan's nerves. More than that though, Professor Gibbs was from Ravenclaw. After the war (which no one really spoke of) Slytherins were looked upon with mistrust and disgust, apparently even in the eyes of their Potions professor. Though Evan was competent at potions, neither he nor the rest of his House were ever awarded points in the class. It was frustrating and aggravating, but after two years, Evan and the rest of the Slytherins had learned to grin and bear it.

Herbology seemed useless to Evan, though Cory thoroughly enjoyed the class. Evan got passing grades though, so that was all that mattered to him. Transfiguration was a waste of Evan's time. Using a wand and a spell to transform an object took too much energy. Evan much preferred using his Underground magic for such transformations. Illusions and transformations were a particular forte of his father's, and Evan had inherited the skill. His magic allowed him to alter an object, whether it was living or not, into something else with just a thought. It seemed Underground magic was much better at transfiguring the world then Wizarding magic. Why that was, Evan had no idea, but it made the class tedious and boring and he often found he had a headache from concentrating afterward. Headmistress McGonagall had at one time taught the class, but the new professor was a good replacement, or so Evan had been told.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was one of Evan's favorite classes, and not just due to the fact that the professor was none other than Mavic Mavoria. Mavic was generally known to the Williams children as "Aunt Mavie", though she had no actual relation to them. But some of Evan's earliest memories included the Aboveground witch with her purple hair, and Evan loved her all the same. Mavic was also the head of Slytherin, despite her being from Ravenclaw originally. Adults willing to associate with the Serpentine House were few and far between nowadays, so Mavic had volunteered for the position. Evan had been thrilled. It was nice now and again to have someone _know_ you. And…Mavic was a fantastic DADA professor. All her students achieved top marks. Mavic herself had once worked for the Ministry of Magic as a Seeker in the Muggle Department. It had been her responsibility to investigate unnatural (i.e. magical) deaths amongst muggles. She had also fought against the dark arts and her knowledge was vast on the subject.

Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures were both only three days a week, but Evan generally enjoyed the classes. How Hagrid had managed _not_ to kill any students in all his time teaching was a wonder to Evan. One semester in Second Year, Hagrid had managed to bring redcap goblins to Hogwarts. Evan had been shocked to see the leering, glaring, goblins brought out of the Forbidden Forest in cages. There had been three of them, all cursing at the half-giant in the goblin tongue, which from Hagrid's lack of concern he either did not understand or he just ignored. Regardless, Evan understood every single word and his ears were burning red by the time the goblins were brought before the class. Most of the students were curious and in awe of the goblins, taking turns seeing how close they could get to the cages before the redcaps would gnash their sharp teeth and lunge at them with sharp claws. What no one seemed interested in learning was why the goblins were called "redcaps". Yes, each goblin wore a pointed hat made of soft cloth, and yes the cap was dyed a deep, deep red, but what was most worrisome about redcaps is how the cap _became_ red. Evan knew. These goblins were not like the stupid, mostly harmless goblins that roamed his father's castle. Redcaps were bloodthirsty goblins who lured unsuspecting mortals to their doom. Their caps were dyed red from the blood, _human_ blood, of their victims. When Cory had moved to investigate closer, Evan had held him back. "Don't." Evan had commanded sternly, his blue and green eyes never wavering from the cages. At the sound of his voice the goblins turned toward him in unison, their beady red eyes narrowing at recognition, though they said not a word to him. Aboveground goblins shared no love loss with their Underground sovereigns.

After the lesson, and later that night when everyone was asleep and it was way past curfew, Evan had enlisted Fren's aid in sneaking down to Hagrid's hut. Even though Evan was repulsed by the redcaps, he had no real desire to see them in a cage…and keeping them so near to young children was a very bad idea. When he approached them, the three redcaps were sitting in the cages, red eyes unblinking. Swallowing, Evan straightened his posture and stood before the cage. "You know who I am." It was not a question, but a statement, and the three redcaps nodded in unison. "I will release you, but you must swear not to seek revenge against Hagrid or any of the children here." The redcaps hesitated and Evan crossed his arms. "I could _command_ you, if you would rather. I am giving you a chance." The redcaps had eventually agreed to leave the school grounds and to never return. They had been unhappy with Evan's order, but their desire to be free from their cages was stronger than their need for revenge. Even now Evan shuddered as he thought about those red eyes and red caps fading into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. He had never told his father what had happened, and he never told Hagrid how the redcaps had been released. Evan just hoped that this year, Hagrid would find something a little less dangerous for them to study.

Currently, though, Evan was resting in between classes, having a small break before his first Muggle Music class. Despite the autumn chill, he found himself beneath a tree just on the outskirts of the school grounds, near the Forbidden Forest. Several of the students were terrified of the forest and stayed away, but Evan enjoyed the solitude and the silence around him. The forest seemed to have its own magic, and whether or not the Wizarding World could sense it, Evan did not know. Either way, he had needed to get away from the chattering students and all the bodies pressing together. Evan sighed, wishing he had a bit of tea to drink. Simultaneously, small elf appeared next to him, holding a tray with tea and biscuits. Evan reached for the tea, grinning. "Why Fren, you're a mind-reader, you know that?"

Fren the house-elf nodded, his long ears flopping against the sides of his long face. "Of course, Prince! Of course." Fren sat the tray down and sat across from Evan, his large eyes watery. "It is being time for afternoon tea. Prince often has tea with King in afternoon, but today, maybe Prince will have tea with Fren?"

A bit of a shadow had crossed Evan's face at the mention of his father, but he lightened again at Fren's question. "I would be delighted, my fine elf." Together they had tea in a companionable manner. Fren occasionally asked questions about Evan's schedule and teachers (though Evan had a sneaking suspicion that the elf already knew these things). Fren also reminded Evan that he had promised his sister a letter. "You know, I have been so busy I had forgotten."

Tea was done and Fren gave Evan a small wag of the finger. "A promise is a promise, young Prince," he admonished lightly causing Evan to laugh.

"Yeah, I'll write her tonight."

Then Evan bade his friend farewell and made the mad dash across campus to the Hogwarts Ballroom where Muggle Music was held. There were already students gathered inside; a few girls from Gryffindor, a few from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, but surprisingly non from Slytherin. Hiding in a corner, Evan could make out Cory, who was trying desperately to blend into the shadows.

"I can't believe you've dragged me into this," the burly boy said with a groan as Evan approached. "It's just not…manly…"

Evan quirked up an eyebrow, his thoughts flitting back to a night earlier in the summer. The Goblin Castle had been surprisingly quiet and peaceful. There had been a revel that day and most of the goblins were passed out drunk in the throne room and in other odd locations throughout the castle. Evan had been searching for his mother, though now the reason was lost onto him. He had looked through the castle, but she had been nowhere to be found. Eventually, Evan had wondered outside to the Royal Gardens. Someone had been playing a guitar and softly singing, so Evan had gone to investigate. What he had found surprised him even to this day.

His father, Jareth, King of the Goblins, was sitting under a hazel tree, a stringed instrument (not a guitar like Evan had originally thought, though very similar) in his arms and he was singing softly to his mother. Evan was careful not to be seen by staying close to the bushes, for he knew instantly that he was invading a private moment, but for the life of him he could not look away. There was something captivating about the scene. His mother was leaning against his father, resting her head on his shoulder, green eyes observing him as he sang quietly to her. Evan had been in shock. He had never heard his father sing. He certainly never sang to him or to Annabelle, and yet he sang a song for his mother. No, _to _his mother. Though Evan had only heard him sing that one time, his father's voice was etched into his memory, along with the melody and the words of that song. Evan did not know why, but there was something powerful in the way his father sang…as if he were sharing a secret part of himself to his mother. That realization had drawn Evan away from his parents. He had never spoken to them about what he saw, but he always remembered the strength and power that his father's voice had evoked when he sang.

Evan shook his head slightly as he brought his mind back to the here and now. "Not manly, huh?" He echoed. "Shows what you know."

Cory opened his mouth to retort, and the paused, carefully examining Evan's eyes. "You know, you get this look sometimes that makes me feel like you know something I don't."

Laughing, Evan crossed his arms. "That's because I do, you dolt."

Both boys, and all the girls, jumped when the ballroom doors slammed open. A tall woman wearing a light blue dress, with long willowy limbs and flowing blond hair entered the room, surveying them all with startling blue eyes. The girls in the room began to whisper excitedly and Cory had his eyes fixed on the woman. Evan could feel magic radiating off her, an innate power that marked her as different, that marked her as non-human, at least part of her. The woman made her way to the middle of the room, and all eyes followed her. "Good afternoon class. I am Professor Vorinksya," she said with a pleasant accent, "And welcome to Muggle Music."

Professor Vorinksya pulled out a slender wand. Several instruments appeared in the room and the girls' whispering became nearly frantic. "Now, for Muggle's to create music, they play instruments. Do any of you already know how to play?" Evan's hand was up and he was called on before he really knew what he was doing. "Yes? And what is your name?"

"Evan Williams, Professor."

"And what do you play, Mr. Williams?"

Evan squirmed as all the students' eyes were on him; including Cory's whose eyes had grown wide as saucers. "Most of them, actually," Evan answered embarrassingly and honestly. He had never mentioned it to anyone, but music came very easily for him. All he had to do was fiddle with any instrument and eventually he understood how to use it. All he needed to do was hear a song once and he could remember it and reproduce it. Until he had seen his father sing, Evan had wondered at the ability. The professor's excited clapping caught Evan's attention.

"Brilliant, brilliant." She handed him a six stringed guitar. "We will start this class by assessment. If you don't mind, Mr. Williams?"

"Uh…" Evan grasped the guitar neck and lightly strummed a chord. Frowning, he tweaked one string, and then took a deep breath to sing a song that would forever be with him.

"_This old house is falling down around my ears  
I am drowning in a river of my fears*  
When all my will is gone you hold me sway  
And I need you at the dimming of the day_

You pull me like the moon pulls on the tide  
You know just where I keep my better side

What days have come to keep us far apart  
A broken promise or a broken heart  
Now all the bonnie birds have wheeled away  
And I need you at the dimming of the day

Come the night you're only what I want  
Come the night you could be my confidant

I see you on the street in company  
Why don't you come and ease your mind with me  
I am living for the night we steal away  
And I need you at the dimming of the day  
Yes I need you at the dimming of the day."

Evan played the last chord, letting the notes vibrate through the whole room. The girls' mouths were hanging open, eyes glistening with unshed tears. The professor was gazing at him intently, and Cory took in a deep breath.

"Alright mate," he said breaking the silence. "You're right. You do know more than I do."

Professor Vorinksya smiled, but the emotion did not reach her eyes. "Very good, Mr. Williams. Anyone else?"

The rest of the class was spent hearing the girls singing, and playing various instruments. When Professor Vorinksya moved to Cory, his face went red from neck up and Evan was worried the boy would pass out. After some finagling, Professor Vorinksya managed to convince Cory to try a set of drums. Oddly enough, his friend seemed thrilled with the small round drum, keeping beat easily with the drumsticks.

"Excellent, excellent." Professor Vorinksya called the class to attention. "Alright everyone. Good class. Tonight I have a small assignment for you," she ignored the quiet moans. "I want you to write me an essay, one length, on your favorite instrument and why. It'll be due tomorrow first thing. You are all excused." Everyone began to file out, Evan and Cory last, when the Professor summoned them, "Not you, Mr. Williams. I'll have a word with you."

Cory gave Evan a worried look, but continued to leave the ballroom, silently mouthing "good luck" before closing the door.

Evan turned toward the professor who was scrutinizing him with cold, blue eyes.

"I am thinking, Mr. Williams, that that song was not yours to sing." Evan's mouth worked silently, but no words came out. "That song has a power to it; you've felt it perhaps?" Evan nodded dumbly, wondering how his professor could know. She gave him a sly smile, "I have vela in my blood, Mr. Williams. If anyone could understand the power of song, it would be me." Her voice softened, "Where did you hear that?"

"My father," Evan answered, though his voice was barely above a whisper. If he found out what Evan had just done…

Professor Vorinksya noted the panic in the boy's strangely mismatched eyes. "It was a private song, was it not? Not for your ears perhaps? Not for _our _ears, certainly." The boy shook his head, desperately looking to at her, begging silently for her not to contact his father. It was painfully obvious that the boy was terrified of his father. "I shall not say anything, Mr. Williams. However, I do ask that you use some better sense in the future. Words have power, _songs _have power. If you do not understand them, you should not use them. You may go."

Evan wasted no time; he turned and fled from the ballroom.

* * *

**So lots of background in this chapter. I was never too thrilled with it, but you know how you get images in your head and you just can't get them out? Well, that was this chapter for me. I borrowed "Dimming of the Day" because I love it.  
**

**R&R  
**

**~Nylle  
**


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